Icy Grave
by Soot
Summary: Holmes/Watson Holmes chases a murderer out onto the Thames only to have the ice give way beneath them. Can Watson save him?


Title: Icy Grave

Summary: [Holmes/Watson] Holmes chases a murderer out onto the Thames only to have the ice give way beneath them. Can Watson save him?

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

Warning: Slash. Don't like don't read.

…

Holmes chased his suspect out onto the Thames, the waters surface covered in a thick layer of ice. The fugitive turned and confronted Holmes head on, swinging his fists at the detective hoping to knock him dead unconscious so he could have a easier time when it came to putting an end to his life. No one liked a struggling victim.

Watson was far behind them both but was close enough to see the epic battle that his friend was locked in. He continued to run towards them, one lucky shot was all it took to make Holmes' vulnerable, and the man they were after was wanted for the murder of no less than fifteen people. Nothing was going to make Holmes an exception and Watson hated that him for not following orders and going alone to confronting the fugitive. So, as Watson watched the ice give way beneath the murderer he was struck by a heart stopping feeling of dread.

That was nothing compared to what Watson felt as he witnessed Holmes disappeared beneath the ice too.

"Holmes!" He bellowed over the frozen expanse of water as a pure reflex before racing forward with complete disregard for his own safety. His only thought was getting Holmes out the water and back to the shore.

As he closed in on the hole that Holmes had disappeared through whilst fighting with the man he was pursuing, Watson was startled by a bang that came from beneath his feet. Sliding to a halt, he looked down to see Holmes beneath the ice, looking at him and knocking on the ice to get his attention. Before Watson could respond Holmes had disappeared again

"Holmes!" Watson bellowed through the ice. Looking up, he saw the hole that Holmes had fallen through and raced towards it in hope that Holmes could find his way back to it and just needed hauling out. As he neared the hole, he saw that Holmes wasn't going to magically appear in it so as he ran he discarded his coat before diving into the dark waters.

As he entered the water, it felt like thousands of needles were piercing him all at once. He put all else to the back of his mind as he searched the depths for his friend. He could see the murderer that Holmes had pursued not moving but continued his search regardless. Finally he spotted a black clad figure not to far in the distance. Watson swam towards him.

As Watson neared him, he could see that Holmes was unconscious.

As Watson arrived next to him, he wrapped his arms around Holmes but realised that Holmes was too heavy for him to drag him back to the surface. Thinking quickly, Watson stripped Holmes of his coat and jacket before trying again. With the weight that the coat and jacket contributed to Holmes' weight removed, Watson found he could drag Holmes as the water combined with the heavy coat was no longer weighing him down.

He could feel his own need to breath now as he continued his fight to return Holmes to the surface and air. He could feel that Holmes was just being dragged and showed no signs of trying to aid him. In fact he feared that he was showing no life signs at all.

Breaking the surface of the water, Watson was greeted by a fury of hands of policemen who followed him out onto the ice to assist in the rescue. Taking a deep breath, Watson hauled Holmes up as high as he could to allow the policemen to drag him out the water.

As Watson accepted help to remove himself from the water, Holmes was being laid on the ice and compressions to the chest were being administrated. The police officer who was doing it had a look of pure concentration on his face. Watson had seen this police officer before and knew that he knew Holmes personally from previous cases. However, Holmes wasn't responding to the treatment. He continued to lay on the ice, still as a corpse.

Watson was beside himself. Racing forward and shoving the police officer out of the way in a desperate fury, Watson started to compress Holmes' chest, gritting his teeth and praying silently that Holmes could still pull through. Desperate, Watson forgot his training and struck Holmes around the face hard. Holmes' head snapped to the side only to be met by Watson's hand again. "Come on, come on you bastard!" He yelled in his face. "You never give up; never! Don't give up on me now!" The police officers stood back watching silently before one moved forward and tried to remove Watson from Holmes' side. Watson ignored them and struck Holmes again hard in the chest, shouting for him to wake up. More police officers moved forward to restrain the deranged doctor and Watson fought them as he tried to continue to strike Holmes. He heard the statement that drove a cold wedge deeper into his heart every time he heard it. 'He's dead Dr Watson'. Accept it'.

Never.

Suddenly, moments after Watson's shoe connected with the side of Holmes' chest, Holmes started to cough up water. Watson stood watching, trembling with his efforts and hope. Dropping back to his knees as the shocked police officer that had successfully pulled him away from Holmes was too shocked to keep a hold on him, Watson shook with joy as Holmes rolled to his side as the last of the Thames water was chocked back up. Gasping for breath, Holmes' dark eyes flickered open as his chest rose and declined fast, trying to replenish the lost oxygen to his lungs. Watson reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder and Holmes turned his head to look at him, his own hand raising to meet his friends.

Cheers went up from the police officers before calls went out for blankets to be found. Watson watched as bruising appeared on Holmes' cheeks, but didn't dwell too much on it. Holmes shivered violently as the cold biting wind blew and the ice he was laid on along side the dip in the Thames he had taken kept him frozen. His breath froze in front of him and Watson gave him his coat that he had discarded before diving in after him. Holmes looked touched and accepted the offer before being guided back to his feet. Being wrapped in Watson's coat helped and he snuggled into it as much as was humanly possible.

"Mr. Holmes, will you require being carried back to the shore?" A large police officer asked. Holmes promptly said no.

"Holmes. I really think you should consider the offer". Watson advised. Holmes shook it off and tried to walk under his own power. He slipped almost immediately and Watson caught him foreseeing such a situation. Watson fought to keep his balance on the ice as Holmes fell into his arms. Managing to stay on his feet, Watson rolled his eyes. Holmes hadn't changed one bit. Holmes' eyes moved side to side in shock that he had slid at all.

Watson again helped Holmes find his feet before placing an arm around Holmes as an aid to keep him stood up.

Smiling in amusement, Holmes asked, "would you care to assist me back to the shore doctor?"

…

"You could have died today". Watson said.

Holmes was sat on the floor by the fire, much closer than usual to it trying to use its warmth to thaw out his frozen bones. He had shivered for the rest of the day and complained that he couldn't feel warm even when the room was like a sauna. Watson had said nothing about what he felt, but now he could no longer sit on what needed to be said.

"I believe I did in fact die Doctor". Holmes replied.

"It was stupid. For such an intelligent, enlightened man Holmes, you can exhibit behaviour of a abject ass". Watson felt himself tremble with rage.

"I fail to see what the fuss is about". Holmes replied dryly, standing up to confront the doctor.

"What you fail to understand was that the Thames was nearly your icy grave!" Watson snapped. The heat and intensity of the words made Holmes recoil. Watson had never talked to him with such venom. They had argued, but never like this. He could think of nothing to say. Watson was right. Sure he could argue that he had been dragged in, but if he was more careful to begin with it wouldn't have happened.

Holmes remained quiet. He had been told what Watson had done for him and couldn't find it in himself to argue against him. Watson stood waiting for the quick witted comeback, but it never arrived. His eyes scanned Holmes' face for any sign as to why none was forthcoming and found that Holmes, on this one and rare occasion, would allow him to win.

Suddenly desperate to show Holmes the feelings he had been harbouring for him, and the events of the day giving him the final push that he needed into acting on what he felt, Watson shoved Holmes up against the wall hard and assaulted his mouth with his own. Holmes was too shocked initially to respond but after a few seconds kissed back, matching Watson's passion and intensity. Watson's hands travelled through Holmes' already scruffy hair and across his ashen yet bruised skin and protruding jaw bone while Holmes' wrapped an arm around Watson's neck to stop his legs for disappearing beneath him. Watson ran his tongue across the roof of Holmes' mouth and Holmes moaned with pleasure while he wrapped his other arm around Watson's waist, pressing both their bodies together hard.

When the kiss broke, Watson saw how lust filled Holmes' eyes were. He also saw how out of breath he was and the swollen lips that were a result of how hard he had assaulted his friends mouth. He also noticed how Holmes' shoulders were haunched with cold as he had moved away from his heat source.

Pulling him into his arms, Watson felt Holmes shiver against him. Pulling back from the embrace slightly, Watson raised a hand to Holmes' ashen and bruised cheek and moved his thumb over the ashen skin delicately so not to inflict discomfort. Holmes turned his face into Watson's palm and kissed it lightly. His infinitely soft lips against his palm made Watson's heart hammer against his rib cage.

"Sleep with me tonight. I will keep you warm". Watson murmured as he moulded his body against Holmes' again. "My body heat is your body heat".

"Thank you John". Holmes' breathed into the crook of Watson's neck as he rested his head on his friends shoulder again. The usage of his first name brought a smile to Watson's face. Holmes rarely used it, but when he did, he was truly grateful for something.

Loving the feeling of what it was like to have Holmes finally in his arms, Watson, considering how close the day had been to disaster and heart break, thus counted himself the most luckiest guy who ever lived. After all, Holmes, to him, looked like an angel – even if at times this angel drove him insane.

End.


End file.
